The Greatest Game Ever Played
by ConfusedGoatee
Summary: Reggie Weaselton and Sheri Ringtail go on a date to a mini-golf course. When they run into another couple, it turns into a double date. After a bet is made, and the stakes are raised, the real fun begins! Maybe by the end, the weasel will understand how to play. A gift to DrummerMax64


Sheri was over the moon. Jumping for joy. On cloud nine. In other words, she was ecstatic. The raccoon hadn't gone mini golfing since she was a young kit! Sometimes, when her father was home, he'd pack the family up for ice cream and stop at an old mini golf course for her and her siblings. They loved it, and the young kits always wanted to go when their father returned from his long hauls. After a while though, they stopped going. Either he was too tired, or they were too old. Still, the game held a certain nostalgia that Sheri always wanted to capture again.

Reggie didn't care for mini golf. It wasn't something his family did, granted the Weaselton didn't **_do_** sport, and he never saw the appeal of it. The entire game was hitting a colorful ball into a hole with a stick, where's the fun in that? Of course, the mustela hadn't expected such an energetic response from his girlfriend when he mentioned off-paw a new one opening near the Palms Casino. The weasel knew they would go, whether he wanted too or not.

The couple walked paw in paw through the streets of Sahara Square, sun setting and the district cooling. Neon bar and restaurant signs buzzed on, lighting up the darkening sidewalks with brilliant greens, yellows, and reds. The district was always active, but it was a night that it truly came alive. The pair reached their destination, a metal staircase leading to the rooftop of a one-story sushi bar and began the quick climb. When they reached the top, Sheri gasped in awe at the sight. Fake grass covered the roof, with stones lining the course and separating the different holes. Plastic ferns and bushes filled the spaces in between the grass. Four large palm trees stood at the corners of the roof with a thick mesh net stretched across each side. White flag poles with small red flags marked the location of each hole. A dimly lit booth with a faux palm leaf roof stood between two thin archways. The right one read "Entrance," and the left "Exit."

A bored fennec fox was behind the counter, wearing a bright red polo with a red visor on his head. He was leaning against the counter with a magazine in his paws. The fox's massive ears twitched as the couple approached. He glanced up momentarily before reaching down. "What color?" the vulpine questioned in a surprisingly deep voice, pulling two clubs and placing them in front of the couple.

"What?" Reggie replied instinctively.

The fox sighed heavily with a roll of his eyes, "What color **_ball_**?"

"What color do you have?" asked Sheri excitedly, grabbing the weasel by the arm and hugging it tight.

The employee shook his head and pointed behind him. Against the back wall was a picture of eight large, differently colored golf balls, with a label for each color above them. Red, orange, blue, green, purple, white, black, and yellow.

"I'll take blue," Sheri said confidently.

Reggie scratched his chin with a frown, "I'll take...black?"

"Out." the fox said bluntly.

"Ok..." the mustela drawled, "...how about orange."

"Out."

"White."

"Out."

"Yellow?"

"Out."

"Uh…" Reggie glanced slack jawed at the raccoon, who was looking at him with an excited smile. He grimaced and tried one more time. "...red?" The fox reached down and slammed two golf balls on the counter, one red and one blue. The mustela quickly grabbed the clubs in one paw and his red ball in the other. Sheri grasped her ball with both paws, like a kit holding a delicate gift. The couple went to begin, but Reggie paused. "Do, uh...we pay now…?"

"End." grumbled the employee, fiercely flipping to the next page of his magazine.

Reggie didn't respond, instead casting a quick glare at the employee before heading towards the "Entrance" area. The thrilled procyon giggled as they walked in the direction of the first hole, switching between skipping and ecstatic hopping.

"Aren't you **_excited_**!" Sheri squealed, paws still clutching her ball as she raised them to her cheeks, "I haven't done this in **_years_**!"

"I know," Reggie replied candidly, reaching one of the clubs out to the raccoon, "you told me this earlier."

"Stop being a stick in the mud," the procyon exclaimed, wrapping an arm around her boyfriend and pulling him close. She pointed her club triumphantly at the first faux grass course. "We're gonna have fun whether you like it or not!"

The mustela rolled his eyes with a scoff, "I _want_ to have fun. It's just…" He glanced over his shoulder and back at the shack that held the irate fox. "...that guy _bugs_ me."

"Ignore him," Sheri whispered, leaning her head against the weasel's, "Just have fun…with _me_."

Reggie glanced down at the ground. This was supposed to be their date night, and the officer shouldn't let am ill-tempered employee bring down him down. **_No_**! He was going to have a great time with the raccoon he loved, playing a game that she loved, and no one was going to get in his way! The mustela eyed the first course carefully. Labeled with a small wooden pole at the beginning that stated "1," it seemed like a straight shot from where the fake grass began to a hole at the other end. There was an odd blue rubber mat with three shallow holes that was roughly a foot from the edge of the beginning. Reggie turned to the procyon, muzzle open as he was about to ask where they would start, when a familiar voice caught his attention.

"Well, well, well, look what we got here."

The mustela let out an audible groan. His shoulders slouched as he turned to face the most annoying mammal in Zootopia.

Standing just at the end of the metal steps, wearing a gaudy green Pawaiian shirt with cargo pants, was Nicholas Wilde. The red fox's constant smirk was highlighted by the amused look in his green eyes. Before the tod could say another word, more than likely some barb about the weasel's personal selection of clothing, another voice spoke up.

"Nick, don't _**antagonize**_ Reggie!"

Pushing past the tall vulpine was a smaller mammal. With grey fur, amethyst eyes and long ears that ended in black tips, Judy Hopps was an unmistakable figure. Of course, Wilde rarely went anywhere without the rabbit, unless it was completely necessary. Even then the tod would complain endlessly.

The doe smiled and waved at the couple, "Hey guys! I didn't realize you two would be here!" The rabbit padded towards the weasel and raccoon, then stopped abruptly and glanced over her shoulder. "Oh Nick?" The fox cocked his head with a raised brow. "Can you get our clubs?"

Wilde sighed with a smirk, raising his paws in confusion, "What did I-" He was cut short by Hopps turning around fully and folding her arms. The fox brought his paws up defensively, smile faltering, "Fair enough. I'll take care of the paperwork, Carrots." The tod easily strode to the lapine, giving her a playful wink.

Judy chuckled, turning back to the other couple and skipping towards them. She smiled apologetically at the weasel, "Sorry Reggie, you know how Nick can be."

The mustela rolled his eyes, "_Well_ aware."

The rabbit giggled and moved to hug the raccoon. She wrapped her arms around the other female "You guys should have told me you were coming."

Sheri reciprocated the affection, "We didn't know you guys were gonna be here!"

"Well let's make it a _double_ date," Hopps offered, pulling away from the procyon and pumping a fist in the air. "We've been saying **_forever_** to do one!"

"That sounds great!" Sheri exclaimed, "Mini putt is always better with more mammals!"

"What's better with more?" Wilde chimed in, returning with two clubs and two golf balls, one green and the other purple.

"We're making this a double date!" the rabbit said excitedly, retrieving a club and the green ball from the fox.

"You think that's a good idea fluff?" the tod questioned, expression growing serious as he tossed his purple ball in the air, "Can we **_really_** trust these two to not cheat?"

"**_Ha_**!" Reggie laughed, pointing his club at the vulpine, "I don't even know how points **_work_**, so the only one who would cheat is **_you_**!"

"Is that so?" Wilde mused, eyeing the weasel with a wry grin.

"Yes!"

"That hurts cue," the fox replied, shaking his head as his ears lowered, though his smile never disappeared, "real low of you." He covered his eyes with an arm dramatically and sighed heavily. "So, _so_, _so_ _low_! How will you make it up to _me_?"

"By not falling into your obvious ploy," Reggie replied bluntly, unimpressed with the tod's theatrics.

"**_Or_**, we can make a wager?"

"No."

"Absolutely."

"_No_."

"One hundred percent."

Before Reggie could deny Wilde again, and emphasize his final "No," Sheri interrupted the arguing males.

"What type of wager?" the raccoon asked innocently.

The weasel groaned as the fox's smile grew. "A simple bet," Wilde replied smoothly, holding two digits in front of his muzzle and just barely separated, "just a teensy, eensy, little, barely noticeable bet that the losers pay for the winners."

"_No_," Reggie answered one last time.

"Sure," Sheri replied easily, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. The procyon turned to the rabbit, "Wanna team up?"

Judy grinned, "Guys versus gals? Sounds good!"

"Wait, that's not-" Wilde started with a raised digit, expression falling.

"Wanna go first?" the doe posed to the raccoon.

"Why _thank _you!" Sheri exclaimed, giggling as she rushed to set up for her first shot.

Wilde stood flabbergasted, obviously not expecting this turn of events. "That..." the tod drawled, turning his confused gaze to the weasel, "...wasn't supposed to happen." The fox then chuckled with a shake of his head and his signature smirk firmly in place. "Sly, bunny," he muttered under his breath, turning towards the first hole.

Reggie watched slack jawed as the fox followed the females, complaining loudly about conspiring rabbits and raccoons. There was a _twack_ and a loud cheer from Judy and Sheri. He looked down at the red golf ball in one paw, then the rubber handled club in the other.

"_Hey_!" the weasel shouted, gaining the group's attention, "How the rutt do you **_play_**?"

* * *

"The key is confidence," Wilde staged whispered to Reggie, "if you're confident, you can't _fail_."

"That doesn't make sense," the weasel grumbled back at the fox, "aren't I **_supposed_** to hit the _ball_?"

"This isn't _game_ advice," the fox scoffed, "but some **_life_** advice you desperately need." He patted the mustela on the back, "Just hit the ball, cue."

Reggie looked from the ball to the hole, then back again. He keenly watched Hopps and Wilde, as Sheri had gotten her ball in the hole in one shot, but the weasel still wasn't sure what to do. The mustela knew **_how_** to do it, but it seemed impossible to get it in one shot. The fox and rabbit's balls were close, yet they didn't get it in one shot as well.

Sheri groaned loudly, "Reg-**_gie_**! You're killing me! **_Please_** take your shot!"

"Alright, alright," the mustela groused, casting a quick glare over his shoulder at the impatient mammals, "Just let me…"

Reggie eyed the hole once again, the edge of a white plastic cup just barely visible. The weasel breathed slowly, then gingerly swung his club. He felt the club impact his ball, as a soft _twack_ echoed from it. The mustela watched nervously as his red ball slowly rolled through the faux green grass. He sucked in a sharp breath as he realized it was straight enough to go in, only for it to peter out midway up the course. A chorus of groans erupted behind him.

"Give it a _pop _cutie!" Sheri exclaimed, almost tackling the mustela with her hug. She kissed the side of his face, then whispered, "I know you _can_."

Reggie blushed at the raccoon's words and smiled meekly. Sheri was the only mammal who could do this to the mustela. Maybe he could put more into it next time...like he did in **_other_** activities.

"My turn!" Hopps shouted, running up the side of the course to her ball.

"Slow down Carrots!" Wilde called out, sauntering slowly behind the rabbit and lazily swinging his club, "I deserve a handicap, _other_ _than_ playing with cue."

"You'll do better next time," Sheri comforted, giving the weasel another squeeze, "You'll have seventeen more chances." She pulled away but didn't let go of the mustela. "Come on Regg! This is so **_fun_**!"

"Woohoo," Reggie muttered, allowing himself to be dragged by his girlfriend. The weasel didn't know how much _fun_ this was going to be.

* * *

This whole golf thing wasn't too bad. They were on the ninth hole, one that a sand thingy **_and_** a green bumpy hill. It also split into two separate branches, the left going up and curving back to the center and the right going down and ending up in the same spot. It didn't seem as bad as the previous hole, but it still looked tricky.

The weasel didn't understand what birds, boogers and pears had to do with the game, but he did realize that the less it takes to get the ball in the better. So far, he'd gotten it in three, two, four, five, four, three, five, and six. Not low numbers by any standards, and usually a hit or two higher than everyone else. Hopps and Sheri were doing the best, though Wilde wasn't doing too bad either. The fox bemoaned his and Reggie's high score, but the mustela could tell that it was more for show. The tod appeared to be having fun as well.

Reggie was up again, none of the others getting it in one shot. He frowned as he noticed everyone else tried to go up and around, but there didn't seem to be a strategic difference for going the other way. In fact, with the other balls in the way, the weasel's rudimentary understanding of the game suggested he try to take the right route. Sure, it would be uphill on the opposite end, but if he could give it that extra **_pop_**…

"Not getting any younger cue," Wilde remarked snarkily, "you think you could-"

Reggie hit the ball with much more power than necessary, a loud _twack_ cutting off the fox. Unlike other shots, by any of the other mammals, his red ball arced up. Instead of going right, down a slope then back up, it flew straight up and landed on the colored rocks separating the paths. The weasel groaned, shoulders slouching as he tipped his head up to the sky. He heard a chuckle from behind him.

"Nice try cue," Wilde commented, "but you gotta keep the ball **_on_** the course!"

"Reggie's doing his best Nick," Judy chided, "can we say the same about you?"

"Har, har fluff."

"You ok cutie?" Sheri whispered, placing her muzzle on the weasel's shoulder.

Reggie sighed, but then nodded. "Yeah, just not good at this game."

"It's not about being good," the raccoon corrected, nuzzling her head into his, "but having a blast." The procyon paused. "...you **_are_** having fun...right?"

The mustela smirked and closed his eyes, "With you, always." The couple's peaceful moment wouldn't last.

"Aw, _soooo_ adorable!"

"Shush Nick, or I'll cuddle you _right **now**_!"

"Yes ma'am."

"My turn," Sheri chuckled, lifting her head off the weasel. She ran a paw across the weasel's shoulders and gave him an amorous look. "Want to help with my swing?" the raccoon posed smokily, "maybe _guide _me from behind?"

Reggie's eyes went wide, and he nervously glanced at the other couple. Hopps was staring up and away from the weasel, ears even pointed in another direction, but Wilde was staring directly at him. The fox gave an exaggerated winked. The mustela rolled his eyes, but he couldn't stop a grin from forming on his muzzle.

"I think you should be teaching **_me_**," Reggie remarked truthfully, following the soft tail of his girlfriend as she made her way to her ball, "but I'll see what I can do."

* * *

Reggie was having a lot more fun. It was obvious that the ladies were going to win, though the weasel never doubted it. Once that fact was established however, everyone loosened up even further. It started with the mustela "helping" the raccoon, which was just an excuse for Sheri wiggle into her boyfriend. Then hole ten, where Wilde decided it was the perfect time to pinch Hopps' tail mid swing. The rabbit retaliated by full on tackling the tod's when it was his turn. Reggie couldn't help but laugh at the sight of the lapine hugging and cooing over the fluffy appendage, with the fox's only response was shaking his head in embarrassment.

These little games continued, with each hole bringing something new. At hole thirteen, a bet was made to see who could finish first with their eyes closed. Sheri finished first, but Reggie had a sneaking suspicion that the raccoon may have been peeking. Wilde was last, though that more than likely had to do with Hopps insistence that she cover the tod's eyes. To accomplish this, the rabbit climbed up the fox's back, sat on his shoulders, and covered his eyes with her paws. The vulpine never had a chance.

Eventually they ran out of courses, and the eighteenth hole finally greeted them. It was shorter in length compared to some of the others, but a fake palm tree sat in the middle of it. There was a hole at the base of it, and four plastic green leaves wind milled in front of it. Reggie could hear gears grinding against one another, with the leaves stuttering with each rotation. Above the spinning leaves was a white laminated sign that read "Hole in 1 = Free Game!"

"**_That's _**our ticket to not paying cue!" Wilde exclaimed, pointing his club at the sign, "Hope you're ready for our _toughest_ challenge yet!"

"I've trained on seventeen holes for this moment," Reggie replied sardonically, "Why are you getting worked up about this?"

"Because cue," the fox started, wrapping an arm around the weasel's shoulders, "I **_really _**don't want to pay for this."

"You're **_finally _**paying for a **_date_**, slick!" Hopps yelled at the conspiring males. She was standing next to Sheri who was still going first.

"In your **_dreams_**, fluff!" Wilde shot back with a confident smirk, "just like you're always in mine!"

Reggie ignored the lapine's loud "Aw," and focused on the fox with a raised brow. "Never paid for a date?"

"Of _course_**_,_** I pay for dates, cue," the tod emphasized, "just not in the _traditional _sense of _currency._" Wilde grimaced at the weasel's confused expression. "I use a lot of favors, ok? And I don't think the mammal here will let that slide."

The mustela frowned momentarily, then shrugged indifferently, "Sure, let's try to get a free game."

Sheri had already gone, with the procyon reporting it had taken two tries before sinking her shot. The males set up on either side of the course, and intently watched Hopps ready her turn.

"Wow, you two are taking this seriously," the rabbit commented, casting a curious glance at the fox and weasel.

"No more than our usual cases, carrots," Wilde retorted, trademark smirk in place as he kept his eye on the lapine's ball.

"O-_kay_," Hopps replied, rolling her eyes with an amused shake of her head. The rabbit lined up her shot, glancing between the ball and the opening, before swinging her club. With a controlled hit, the doe's ball quickly rolled forward. It passed the spinning leaves and into the hole.

Reggie rushed to the other side, expecting the golf ball to continue its journey. He was surprised to see it exit noticeably slower than its entrance, sputtering to a stop between the tree and the hole. The weasel frowned and bent down to peer into the tree.

"Don't bother, cue," Wilde instructed, "it's definitely rigged."

"How would you know?" the weasel questioned suspiciously.

The fox placed a paw dramatically on his chest and lifted his chin in the air with a confident smirk, "Because I invented this little hustle."

The mustela scoffed, "No you didn't."

Nick's smirk lessened, and his paw fell to his side. "Ok, I didn't _invent_ it per se, but I have used it."

"So, how do we beat it?"

"By letting me pass," Hopps grumbled, pushing past the vulpine and stepping onto the course.

"You two are _adorable_," Sheri giggled behind the weasel, running a paw across his shoulders, "Is this what it's like every day for you two?"

"They either do less work," Hopps added, "**_or_** get into trouble."

"Well how can we get into trouble if we don't work?" Wilde posed rhetorically. The rabbit stuck at her tongue and the fox responded with a playful wink. "Come on cue, we have to _strategize_."

* * *

It was all down to Reggie.

Wilde had explained that the tunnel was lined with the thicker grass. Even though they were different hues of green, the natural shadow inside the tree hid that fact. The fox explained the need to hit the ball harder than seemingly necessary, but make sure not to simply launched it at the tree. He talked about how only the perfect touch would be able to get past this nefarious trap. How the weasel was lucky the vulpine was there to say the day. He then proceeded to hit it too hard, and it bounced off the base of the tree.

So, it really **_was_** all down to the mustela.

Reggie blew out a slow breath as he tightened his grip on his club. He glanced between hole and his ball, trying to find the rhythm of the rotating leaves.

"Get it, cutie!" Sheri shouted from behind, her statement punctuated by a high pitched woo.

"You got this cue," Wilde reassured calmly, "and if you don't, you can cover us-"

"How about **_you_** pay for both!" Hopps interrupted, "Just do your best Regg!"

The weasel nodded curtly, though his gaze remained on the tree. He watched the leaves spin and waited. A silence settled around the mustela as he let out a deliberate breath. He could feel his heart race, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Reggie raised his club high, paused, then swung it down. Just before he made contact, the mustela restrained his motion.

Reggie felt the _twack_ through rubber grip. He didn't see his ball enter the tree, but Wilde, Hopps and Sheri had rushed to the other side. The weasel held his breath as he watched the trio's reaction. They gasped in unison, then erupted in their own way.

Judy jumped up with an excited whoop as she pumped her fists in the air.

Nick stood awestruck, muzzle agape and ears up, as if he didn't expect the weasel to succeed.

Sheri shouted in surprise; her paws clasped tightly together. She looked at the mustela with a broad smile and waved for him to come over.

Reggie rushed over and peaked around the tree. His red ball sat in the hole, all without any extra help. A smirk appeared on the mustela's muzzle, and slowly it grew into a broad grin. "I can't believe that worked!"

"Neither can I," Wilde muttered.

"Shush Nick," Hopps lightly chastised, "you're always so negative!"

"I didn't think he would either," Sheri admitted sheepishly.

The weasel broke his gaze from the final hole and looked at his girlfriend. "You didn't?" he asked with a raised brow and smile beginning to diminish.

The raccoon shrugged apologetically, "Should've known better." She stepped toward the mustela and placed a paw on his shoulder. "I _should_ know better," she whispered. Sheri leaned closer and pressed her lips against the weasel's. A pleasant hum escaped the female as she deepened the kiss. It was only after several seconds, and wrapping her arms around the mustela's neck, did the raccoon break it off. "Maybe you can _remind_ me why tonight?" she whispered suggestively.

Reggie's face grew hot as his muzzle hung ajar. His eyes were partially open and staring back into the deep brown gaze of the smirking procyon. The male swallowed dryly, mind blank and tongue tied at his girlfriend's kiss. She **_really _**could get to the mustela. Before the weasel could even formulate an appropriate response, someone cleared their throat loudly.

"That's enough of that," Wilde announced.

"They're having a _moment_!" Hopps exclaimed.

"Pu-_lease_, Carrots. They're one more moment away from Reggie getting _another_ hole in one."

The mustela shot a glare at the fox, while the raccoon laughed.

"Well turn around then!" Sheri shot back with a grin over her shoulder.

The tod was standing with his arms crossed and an impressed smirk. Hopps was next to him, pinching the bridge of her snout with her ears tilted back. She sighed, then held out her club to the vulpine.

"You and Reggie take the stuff back. Me and Sheri can talk."

"Hurry up cutie," Sheri giggled, pressing her club into the weasel's chest, "you don't want me to get _lonely_."

"Wouldn't want that at all," Reggie mumbled, still stunned by his girlfriend. He watched her walk away with the doe, striped tail swaying back and forth with each step. The mustela's mind wandered to past late nights as he mused what was in store for the end of this night. A light tap on the top of his head broke his concentration. The weasel's dreamy expression fell to a frown.

"I could kill you with one of those," the officer stated evenly.

"Yes, but then fluff would have to kill you," Wilde retorted, spinning the doe's club between his digits, "and would you _really_ want to ruin your night like that?"

Reggie rolled his eyes, "You're lucky."

"I'm _good_," the fox corrected with a wry grin. He gestured to the stand with the club he had been twirling. "Time to check out."

The males headed in the same direction of the females, passing through the arch that read "Exit." The weasel looked over to Sheri and Hopps, who were making their way to the steps, and smiled. It had been a great idea, whether it was the mustela's or not, that he and the procyon would have to do again.

"Hey cue," Wilde piped up, "you two have any other plans?"

Reggie's brow rose, "Why?"

The fox rubbed the back of his head with a small smile. "Judy and I were gonna get some water ice after this, and I was wondering…" The tod trailed off, gesturing to the weasel. He let out a slow breath, as his eyes grew wide before returning to a half-lidded stare. "Don't make me say it," the vulpine groaned.

The mustela smirked, "I think that sounds good." He tapped the fox's midsection with the end of his club. "But you're buying."

Wilde's brow rose, "Why would that be?"

"**_I _**got the free game," Reggie retorted, "so **_you_** get the water ice." He stuck his muzzle in the air with a wry grin, "We could always ask Judy."

The fox chuckled with a shake of his head, "Alright, you win **_this_** time, cue." He pointed a digit at the mustela, "But don't get used to it!"

Reggie chuckled, continuing their journey to the hut, "Beginners' luck."

* * *

**This little story is a gift to DrummerMax64. They wrote three great pieces on ZNN about A Weasel's Watch, Officers Watch and A Wolf's Song. This is my way of saying thank you! Hope you enjoy it Drummer! **

**-CG**


End file.
